


The Hearing Arts

by Ericine



Series: Lush [8]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Bajoran Culture, Being Lost, Betazoid Culture & Customs, Character Study, Communication, Dessert & Sweets, Enemies to Friends, Episode: s05e05 Disaster, Episode: s05e12 Violations, Episode: s05e14 Conundrum, Gen, Healing, Implied Relationships, Other, Past Relationship(s), References abuse, Silence, Sort Of, figuring stuff out, implies a bunch of other relationships, listening, pick what you want haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 20:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13302357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ericine/pseuds/Ericine
Summary: After that conversation in Ten-Forward at the end of Conundrum, Ro Laren and Deanna Troi strike up an unlikely...something. They're not friends. They're not. But they're rolling with it. Written for Plithith.





	The Hearing Arts

**Author's Note:**

> For a dear friend who requested "Troi/Ro, post-Conundrum: they talk and then it gets a little gay." I'm not sure how well this filled the prompt, but I do like the not-friendship relationship they develop between them, and there's plenty of room to read into this - I placed this in the Lush universe, but you can read it otherwise. Enjoy! :)
> 
> It does address the aftermath of Violations, where Deanna, Will, and Beverly are all mind raped, but the specific occurrence is never expicitly stated. Very small reference to abuse at the hands of the Cardassians.

Ro Laren has countless reasons to hate Deanna Troi. Even when she looks past the fact that she’s a member of the unrealistically shiny and chipper Enterprise crew, equal parts brilliant and nice, there’s still so much there.

Deanna Troi is the nicest of the nice. Laren’s seen complete strangers sob into her arms before, even if they had no idea about her abilities. Laren listens to the ship’s stories about her mother and watches the way that Troi rolls her eyes and pleads with them to stop, like she hasn’t realized in losing a father that she’s lucky enough that the universe decided to let her keep her mother.

Deanna Troi is aristocratic - even while she’s being nice. Laren supposes, on the level of her that sits, unmoving, in survival mode, that it must have been necessary for the smaller woman, growing up with her nice house and her protective mother and her jewel-toned costumes with matching hairpieces (they’re real jewels - they have to be) that she’s managed to keep wearing even when everyone else around her has to adhere to a uniform code, their persecuted religions be damned. Laren’s watched the differences between the way that the Cardassians addressed her, her family, and her people, and in the way that they addressed each other - two vastly different personas. She recognizes that in Troi, too, no matter how much she tries to hide behind a uniform (or lack thereof). At the end of the day, she’s royalty. The rest of them are not. Laren’s not sure how no one else has managed to figure this out.

Deanna Troi is genuine, and that’s why her reasons for hating Troi are accompanied with reasons for hating herself. Because despite her nauseating background and set of abilities (Laren’s realized by now that Troi’s one of the more talented empaths on this universe’s scale of empaths - of course she would be), she doesn’t act in a way that deserves any hate, even given her attitude and her accompanying charmed life. She’s spearheading the construction of Starfleet ship personnel themselves, and in comparison, Laren’s scraping by another week, happy (though she’d never admit it) that she’s not getting kicked out of Starfleet.

It’s not that she’s even sure that this is where she needs to be - probably not on this ship with all of these people. She just isn’t sure where she would go.

So, naturally, because she and Troi are who they are, Laren, in a blank-slated state, takes the first opportunity to screw the guy that all of the Enterprise know is hers.

When Beverly Crusher had her memory wiped, she defaulted to being a doctor. Healing.

Laren’s clearly more in the business of breaking things, especially when they’ve already been broken.

_ Why did it have to be Troi? _

She knows what she has to do.

When work is squared away, she heads to Ten-Forward. There’s an eighty percent chance that Troi already knows what’s happened, and that’s if Riker doesn’t tell her first.

She figures with those odds and the entire Enterprise’s creepy ability to be in pertinent places at the right times, she’ll be there waiting for her.

She’s right.

She can’t bring herself to look at Guinan when she sits down across from Troi. She can only take one person looking at her in that way, that expectant and open way that makes her want to say everything that she doesn’t want to and guilty when she doesn’t.

“I don’t know how much you know,” Laren begins. Troi opens her mouth, and Laren, stupid, stupid person she is, raises her hand. But Troi doesn’t call her out on it. “I don’t want to know, if that’s alright. I just - I’m guilty. I didn’t know, and I’m guilty, and I slept with Commander Riker.”

Troi’s eyes widen just a little, and then she shakes her head. “You couldn’t have known. There’s no blame to be had. The guilt is misplaced.”

Troi’s like spring - snow melting, green rising out of the snow. Laren’s more like autumn shifting into winter, everything just barren and crackly and cold. Still, she flashes anger - why is she telling her what to do with her guilt?

“Well, I feel the way I feel,” Laren says, looking down at the table.

Troi nods, face still equal parts open and unreadable. “Well, if you want to know where we stand, we’re fine and clear.”

Laren wonders for a moment if Troi’s ever actually been able to pull off killing someone with kindness. “Uh, okay then. Thanks.”

She figures the best, least awkward thing to do in this situation would be to get up and leave, but Troi opens her mouth again. “Not that you asked or made it seem like this was something you wanted to know, but I don’t have a monopoly on Commander Riker or the people he chooses to spend time with. We’re friends. I’m happy when he’s happy.”

Laren swallows. She doesn’t know nearly as much as everyone else does about the things that go on on the ship, though she’s been able to catch up pretty well, even without speaking to anyone - people don’t control their volume. It’s like they want to be heard, like it’s a more efficient way of spreading gossip if they just try to get as many people into range as possible. But she knows things have been tough since Jev messed with her head - Riker’s and Crusher’s too. “I know it doesn’t seem like this, but I really don’t seek to complicate things. Things just…”

“Happen?” asks Troi, looking tired but amused. “You fit in better on this ship than you think. Drink?”

She’s half-raising her arm now to call someone over, and Laren’s a little horrified. This wasn’t the way she thought things would go.

It’s really, really hard to say no to Troi now that she feels just a little sorry for her.

(Also, why is she so nice?)

She feels her face smooth out when she answers. “Sure.”

Not much happens - Troi’s just teasing Riker when he comes up and asks about them. They end up speaking a little bit about Earth mythology and someone named Psyche, which leads into a discussion about Bajoran religion - or what little Laren really truly knows when Troi has to admit that she’s not quite as brushed up on Earth mythology as she wants to be. It’s something they have in common.

Later, she’ll find out that Troi was bluffing a little - she keeps a handle on several different kinds of mythologies, just in case something comes in handy when negotiating with another race of aliens. Laren would normally be angry at being lied to, but she can’t remember the last time she’s talked so much and Troi’s talked so little in a conversation she was present for. Maybe the woman needs a break.

* * *

Drinks turn into dessert together, and Troi tells Laren to call her Deanna when they’re off the clock and it’s just them. They don’t speak about it very much - Laren knows that Deanna won’t unless she brings it up first - but it’s some time later that Laren hears about what happens on Moab IV, and she must be getting ill, because she decides that it might be helpful to ask Deanna to dessert again.

They’re not friends - she doesn’t think Deanna would say they were either. They’re about as different as people can get, but there was a week in Laren’s childhood when she was more talkative, and the Cardassians made her kneel in grain for hours. Her knees had hurt for weeks, and it wasn’t her usual group that she found comfort in. Their pity was overwhelming. She didn’t need comfort; she just needed silence. She ended up hanging out with Ada Omi, the most quiet and withdrawn person in her camp. Omi barely acknowledged her presence as Laren changed the makeshift bandages around her knees. It helped, even though Laren felt as lonely as ever.

They order a chocolate banana split, and Laren pretends to eat so that Deanna eats most of it. They eat in silence, until Deanna dabs at her mouth with a napkin.

“Everyone says everything is fine, but I know that it is not,” she says.

She goes back to eating.

Laren doesn’t respond. She knows that she doesn’t have to, not that she’d know what to say if she did. But that’s also how she confirms what she though: Deanna’s going about her daily routines, hanging out with everyone as normal, but not everything’s there.

“Let’s have another one in a couple days,” says Laren. It’s all that they say to each other.

* * *

A couple days later, they don’t say much to each other either.

“I haven’t been able to talk to them the way I usually do,” she says.

Laren doesn’t ask who “them” is. She has a pretty good idea, but that’s not the point.

Her contribution to the conversation is to ask if Deanna wants to split a chocolate milkshake. Guinan brings it in two glasses, and Laren tries really, really hard not to see the glimmer of approval on her face.

* * *

Things get busy for a while, and the next time they meet, it’s over fruit.

“Even I had to admit that was getting a little malnutritious,” Deanna admits. They drizzle chocolate and cinnamon honey on top of the fruit, though.

She doesn’t say anything after that, even when the fruit’s three-fourths gone. Laren wonders if they’ve been doing this often enough to merit actual rules: they each can only say one thing.

That leaves her to say her one thing. “They’ll wait for you,” she tells her. Deanna looks up. “They won’t leave you. They’re still around, and you can talk to them like you used to when you’re ready. Or maybe you talk to them differently, but it works. The point is that you’re not alone, and you won’t be.”

She wishes she had people like that, but she’s already said her piece for their meeting - maybe a little too much, at that - so she holds her tongue.

* * *

She has an unspoken agreement with Riker not to speak about what happened between them ever again. She welcomes a slightly lessened amount of awkward in her life.

She can’t keep from grimacing when he shows up at her door.

“I’m sorry,” he tells her. “I wanted to pull you aside in the hallway, but it was always on the clock.”

She doesn’t invite him in. “What is it?”

“I think I insinuated that I didn’t like you and Deanna spending time together. I wanted to tell you that wasn’t the case.”

“Okay,” Laren tells him.

She can tell he wants to ask her something else - how Deanna is, maybe. But he just leaves. She almost wishes he had pulled her aside at work. She still feels so  _ strange _ .

She knows that she, even then, hadn’t really wanted  _ him _ . She’d wanted  _ something _ . But she’s still not sure what that is or how to go about getting it without screwing everything up.

* * *

Their next meeting happens in Guinan’s quarters - Laren feels the need to be surrounded by less people than usual, and she figures less people can’t hurt Deanna when she’s like this. Besides, Guinan is a neutral party - she doesn’t have to talk at all and is happy just listening without commentary. Maybe watching them together in Ten-Forward makes Guinan happy - it’s not often that people on the  _ Enterprise  _ sit together so quietly. Listening, maybe.

Maybe that’s what they’re doing. Laren tries not to think about it too much, like she doesn’t think too much about how Deanna justified this to Guinan - both of them coming here and not speaking to each other.

Data’s taken to eating different Earth cereals. They eat chocolate-based synthetic corn puffs in chocolate milk while Guinan spends most of her time in her bedroom with the door open. Apparently the self-cleaning apparatus on the  _ Enterprise  _ leaves something to be desired.

“On Betazed, it’s common to eat in silence,” Deanna tells her. “I mean, everyone’s telepathic, so they can speak into each other’s minds. When I was younger and not so good at comprehending because I’m not telepathic myself, my mother used to tell me what everyone else was saying. It feels a little like this - people speaking into your mind, it’s not like  _ hearing _ . You are communicating, but it doesn’t necessarily  _ sound _ , if that makes sense.”

It hadn’t occurred to Laren that this might seem  _ less strange _ to Deanna, rather than the opposite.

She wonders what to use her spoken words on today - she’s lonely, but Deanna has to already know that. She’s still not sure how she feels about these meetings, but they’re helpful somehow - Deanna has to know that too.

“I wish it made more sense to everyone else,” Laren tells her.

Guinan comes into the room and begins to dust absolutely nothing. Laren half expects her to speak, and she doesn’t.

* * *

Guinan wants to test her new dream walking hologram, and Laren tells her that she and Deanna can do it together. She figures it’s what Guinan is after anyway - or maybe it’s what she really wants.

It’s a nice change from sitting, and they walk themselves through nebulas of many different colors. As far as they’re concerned, the program is in perfect working order.

They sit in it for a while next to each other, knees hugged to their chests, touching on the sides.

They don’t speak. They don’t have to.

They run into Riker and Crusher on their way to Ten-Forward. Laren doesn’t want to look at their exchange, but she can’t help but take in their unreadable faces, something positive yet sad.

They always finish their meetings with plenty of time for the evening. She knows that the senior staff still has their poker games and that certain groups still hang around afterwards.

Laren doesn’t think about how stupid it is to be jealous of something she (1) has never had and (2) doesn’t necessarily want to pursue.

She jumps when Deanna touches the back of her arm, just below her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Deanna says. “I meant to say I’ll see you later--I have to meet with a patient.”

She can’t remember when Deanna’s ever touched her. She repeats the gesture on Deanna, half as a test and half because she doesn’t know how to touch her in a way that isn’t awkward - hugging is out of the question, handshakes are weird. She feels like she should, though. “Okay. I’m sorry, too.”

She walks away quickly, hoping Deanna can piece together what she’s sorry for, because she’s not so sure herself.

* * *

It looks like a too-loose one-armed hug, when Laren catches them in a mirror doing their gesture at the same time. It’s meaningful enough, though.

“I’m feeling more like myself,” Deanna tells her.

“I think I spend a lot of time trying not to think about myself,” Laren replies.

She’s very tired from her shift and keeps nodding off during the film they’ve decided to watch. If Deanna notices, she doesn’t say anything.

* * *

Laren hasn’t had anyone in her quarters - at least not when she of a sound mind. Maybe Deanna knows this, and that’s why she sits so close to the door.

They’re sitting across from each other, eating a proper meal. The timing just lined up this way.

“I don’t know how long it’s going to take to get the rest of the way to better,” Deanna says. It’s casual, like she’s reading off ship reports from a PADD, but Laren still feels a pang of - something.

They’re still not friends. Laren’s not sure when she stopped wanting to hate Deanna Troi, and she’s not sure what they are now.

That’s alright, probably.

“I’m not sure I know how to be better,” Laren replies, and then, because she has an stupid desire to destroy everything that she’s so precariously built, she adds. “We could say more than one thing to each other every once in a while, maybe.”

She doesn’t know why it’s so surprising to see Deanna smile, a flower popping up out of the snow. “I’d like that. Only if you feel like it, though.”

She doesn’t feel like it that day, but she does a few days later. And a few days after that, she sits down for two minutes when she sees Deanna eating in Ten-Forward with Dr. Crusher.

It’s not everything, but it's something. And it's better.  



End file.
